


While People Sing, Songs of Good Cheer

by castronomicaaal



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-02-27 17:55:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2701991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castronomicaaal/pseuds/castronomicaaal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a collection of individual Christmas/winter drabbles and short writings, both ZA and AU in nature, and will focus on a separate pairing/group each segment. One story will be posted every few days, leading up to Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter Directory

**1. Chapter Directory**

* * *

 

 **Chapter 2. Merry Maybe-Christmas Carl and Beth **|ZA|

_Beth gives Carl something special for Christmas._

**Chapter 3. Mistletoe Glenn and Maggie **|AU|

_"...you just being my husband is what makes me happy.”_

**Chapter 4. Snowball Symphony Character Ensemble **|AU|

_After Christmas Eve dinner, a snowball fight breaks out on the Greene family farm._

**Chapter 5. Untitled Daryl and Beth **|AU|

_“You ever gonna tell me your name?”_

**Chapter 6. Getting By Rick and Maggie **|ZA|

_He's not here, and Rick is._

**Chapter 7. Sneak Carl and Michonne **|ZA|

_Michonne sneaks Carl a treat._

**Chapter 8. Noise Complaint Rick and Beth **|AU|

_Apartment 12 is being too loud, and Sheriff Grimes is there to let them know it._


	2. Merry Maybe-Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beth gives Carl something special for Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is cannon compliant up to ‘Slabtown’. Beth has since been successfully reunited with the group—Abraham’s group as well—and they’re all continuing to journey with one another.

“Rick told me I’d find you out here.”

Carl doesn’t need to turn around to know that it’s Beth; he can tell just by her voice.

“You’re gonna catch a cold out here without a jacket on,” she points out. Movement from the back of the truck notifies Carl that she’s busy climbing up. He moves over a bit, giving her space to join him on the roof of the vehicle once she’s there.

“It’s not that cold out,” he responds with a shrug, nodding her way once she’s finally seated beside him.

“It’s snowin’,” she points out with a slight laugh, her right hand reaching out to catch a small snowflake. It melts against her palm upon contact.

Carl watches, reaching forward to wipe the water off of her hand. Beth giggles softly, pulling away after he’s finished. “You like the snow?” She asks finally.

Carl shrugs. “Mom used to love it,” he responds.

This sobers Beth slightly, her smile disappearing as the mood begins to shift. “I’m sure she’d of loved this,” she promises, hopeful to not have upset Carl. “I can go if you’re wantin’ some privacy?”

To her relief, he smiles at her before nodding. “She would have. You can stay, Beth.” And then, “it could be Christmas any day now, for all we know. Maybe today is Christmas. She loved that, too. And not just Christmas, but the days leading up to it.”

“Well, who doesn’t love Christmas?” Beth playfully responds, bumping shoulders with the younger boy. Carl chuckles, pulling absentmindedly at a loose string on his pants.

“I remember having the best Christmases with my mom and dad,” Carl continues, eyes glancing up towards the sky. There’s a full moon out tonight, illuminating the field all around them.

The group has been at this farm now for a few weeks, recuperating from their long trek across Georgia. The Greene family farm hadn’t kept them safe for as long as they’d hoped, but it had served them well for a while. Eventually this current group had decided to try this place out too, just until everyone was ready and able to continue on.

“Tell me about one,” Beth encourages. Leaning backwards, she rests her back against the cool metal of the truck roof, not at all bothered by the small snowflakes as they fall from above and land on her face.

Carl follows along a few moments after, settling onto his own back. Their bodies touch from their hips downward and Carl playfully nudges at Beth’s foot with his own. She laughs, nudging back. “You really wanna hear about one?” He asks.

Beth nods eagerly. “I have a feelin’ that Grimes family Christmases were a sight to behold,” she teases. “Go on.”

“Alright,” Carl smiles, placing both hands behind his head and continuing to look up towards the moon. “Well, I remember this one time, probably when I was eight or nine. Mom had been upstate to visit a friend and ended up stuck up there in a snowstorm for a few nights. Dad, who’d probably never cooked before at that point in his entire life, decided that he’d make Christmas dinner for her as a surprise for when she finally came home.”

Beth grins as she listens to Carl, laughing softly as she envisions Rick running around like a madman in the kitchen.

“Long story short, he burnt everything. And I mean everything, all of it,” Carl chuckles, his head shaking at the memory. “Mom came home to smoke filling the whole house. We had to order pizza from the only shop in town open on Christmas—ate it outside at the picnic table in the snow, too. Man that was a really good Christmas.”

Beth grins softly, her head turning to watch Carl for a moment. “That actually sounds really nice, Carl,” she promises. “You wanna hear one of mine?”

At his nod, she continues. “It was when I first started datin’ Jimmy,” she elaborates, “the Christmas before the walkers came. Daddy let me invite him over for Christmas Eve dinner. Anyway, he’d never been allowed in my room before but that night my momma was feelin’ extra happy, because of the season and all, and so she let him come up there to hang out for a bit before dinner—door open of course.”

She and Carl meet gazes at this, both rolling their eyes with a laugh.

“So about an hour later, daddy came upstairs to get us for dinner and caught us kissin’ on my bed. It was innocent, but he was furious. Took us straight to the church without dinner and made us talk to the poor pastor about it. All he was wantin’ was to get home to his family, but daddy made us stay there for hours.”

Carl laughs loudly at this, moving one hand from behind his head to clutch his side. “Sounds like Hershel,” he tells her with a smile.

Beth nods kindly, her own smile still warm as she recalls her father fondly.

“At least you had someone to share Christmas with like that,” Carl tells her once he’s calmed back down. “I was too young to have a girlfriend or anything before all this started. And now I probably won’t,” he shrugs as though it’s no big deal, but Beth can see the hurt in his eyes as she watches him. “I’ve never even kissed a girl before,” he admits, blushing slightly.

Beth’s smile returns as she watches him, thinking to herself how happy she is to have a friend like Carl Grimes in her life. “You’re a sweet kid Carl,” she promises, pulling herself back up into a sitting position. Extending her hand, Carl takes it and allows for her to help him back up as well.

Wiping a few stray droplets of snow from off of her face, she admires Carl with friendly affection. “I’ve got somethin’ for you,” she finally tells him.

Carl’s eyebrows crinkle together as he looks at her, wonder written all over his own face. Beth giggles slightly as she watches him watching her in confusion.

After a moment of silent staring Beth leans in, pressing her cold lips to Carl’s own. It’s brief really, sweet and simple. Moving her lips against his for two or three more seconds, she pulls back.

Carl looks at her, both eyes wide and cheeks red from the cold and his mild embarrassment. Eventually he smiles wide, pushing his hair out of his eye line. “What was that for?” He probes.

Beth shrugs mischievously, already standing and making her way off of the truck roof. Once she’s off of the vehicle and settled back on the ground, snow crunching beneath her boots, she winks brightly. “Merry maybe-Christmas, Carl Grimes.”

Carl can hear her humming jingle bells as she departs, watching her retreating form with a big grin on his face.


	3. Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "...you just being my husband is what makes me happy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This drabble is AU.

“When Beth opens all of those records you bought her today, I think she may actually cry.”

Maggie grins, wide and mirthful as she watches Glenn as he unloads the trunk of their car. He chuckles in response, continuing to pick up bag after bag until both of his hands are full.

Once he’s out of the way, Maggie grabs the rest of them that were left there.

“I hope so,” he admits with a small shrug, waiting for his wife to walk around him and open the door with her free hand and key. She does so, and both enter their home. “I mean, not cry. But I hope she’s happy. I’m just trying to make our first Christmas as a married couple really special.”

“By buying my sister more presents than you bought me?” Maggie responds, her tone teasing as she nudges his shoulder. Glenn chuckles himself, shaking his head.

Setting his handful of bags on top of the couch he snorts, reaching forward to grab for her own hands once they’re emptied as well. Their fingers connect easily, interlocking, and Maggie caresses the back of his hand gently with her thumb. “I want to make all of your family happy. I want to make you happy,” he admits.

“You don’t have to buy a million gifts to do so,” she smiles, letting go of his left hand in order to run her fingertips gingerly across his cheek. Eventually her fingers take rest within the back of his hair, stroking the tresses there absentmindedly. “It’s sweet though, and Beth really will love it—all of my family will love their gifts. But don’t think you have to impress me, Glenn. You just being my husband is what makes me happy.”

Glenn smiles softly before pressing a slow kiss to Maggie’s lips as she sighs into his embrace. They stand there in the living room for a few moments, hugging and kissing unhurriedly—both have all of the time in the world, as far as they’re concerned.

Eventually she pulls back, her grin big as she admires Glenn with pure adoration in her eyes. “Shawn and Beth should be over soon, and then we can start decorating the house. But you better hide her presents well, I’m sure that girl could sniff out a Tom Waits album from five miles away.” Both share a laugh at this.

“We have to put up a lot of mistletoe,” Glenn reminds her, pressing one more quick kiss to his wife’s lips before pulling away completely. “I plan on kissing you everywhere I can in this house.”

“You don’t need mistletoe to kiss me,” she responds, laughing.

Glenn smiles and shrugs. “Maybe not, but it’s more fun that way.”

* * *

 

Later—hours past and when the sun has long since disappeared, Beth and Shawn back home at the Greene family farm—Glenn makes good on his promise.

They share kisses that night in the dining room, the living room, the front hall closet, and even the shower; Maggie laughs hard at that one, hitting Glenn playfully on the shoulder before pulling him into a passionate kiss.

Glenn can’t help in thinking her right, with his body pressed tight against her own afterwards in bed. She’s asleep, the evidence in her light snoring. Happiness for him comes in the form of Maggie Greene, the woman of his dreams currently curled into his side, in much the same way she’d promised her own happiness lies within him.

Any amount of presents beneath the tree this year are really just a bonus.


	4. Snowball Symphony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Christmas Eve dinner, a snowball fight breaks out on the Greene family farm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This drabble is AU.

The snowstorm had ended up being a blessing in disguise for everybody.

Annette had been frantic all morning, worrying over finishing up her cooking and fearful of their impending guests being unable to make it. She’d been hosting a Christmas Eve get-together for as long as she can recall, and the thought of needing to cancel had been putting her on edge.

They’d had a snowstorm warning on their local news channel the night before, warning King County and all of the surrounding areas of a big snowstorm heading into town the following afternoon. Not used to getting a lot of snow in their area, it had sent Annette into a tizzy the moment she’d heard of it.

But morning came, and then afternoon, and by two-thirty their usual guests had started to arrive; Maggie’s fiancé Glenn Rhee, Sheriff Rick Grimes with his wife Lori and son Carl, neighbors Sasha and Tyreese Williams, and even Daryl Dixon whom Hershel had invited and eventually convinced to join—with his brother Merle locked up in the drunk tank for the evening, it’s not like he really had any plans of his own anyway. And free food is free food. Or at least that’s what he’d tried telling Hershel on his way through the front door.

The elder had only knowingly smiled in response.

By four, they’d served dinner—ham with all of the fixings. Daryl had brought along some venison from his own collection, reminiscing with Rick on his kill while they’d eaten.

And by five, with everyone stuffed and hot pie cooling on the counter, the ground had become completely colored white.

“You’re cheating!” Maggie yells, laughter to her tone as she attempts to push Glenn off of her. He’s got her pinned to the snowy ground below, smiling and laughing as he gives Carl the chance to pelt her with snowball after snowball.

Across the way, Beth is busy running through the snow fire, her own giggles loud as she dodges one of Sasha’s snowballs. “Nice try!” She calls back, smile wide. It stays on her face for a moment or so until a different snowball, wet and cold, knocks it off.

Blinking rapidly, she wipes the melting snow from out of her eyes. Her cheeks, already tinged pink from the chill, color even further as the cold sticks to her flesh there.

That’s when she spots Rick, up ahead, chuckling and pointing her way. Tyreese is to his right, laughing as he watches the exchange. “You’re a cop!” Beth shouts back, her tone mirthful as she observes him. “Thought you were supposed to protect and serve!”

“I’m off duty!” He yells back before chucking another one. This one hits her square in the chest and she squeals, the wetness seeping through the fabric of her coat. She soon takes off after him, bending forward to scoop up a bit of snow for herself along the way.

She passes her brother Shawn as she runs, throwing a big ball of snow at his back before continuing to venture after Rick. 

Somewhere off to their left Lori is surrounded near the barn, Carl having since teamed up with Maggie and Glenn to pelt his mother with snowballs of their own. She’s shrieking, her gloved hands reaching forward to pull her hat down further over her head.

She is just about to call them off, give in and admit defeat, when Daryl comes swooping in out of nowhere chucking snowballs left and right at the threesome attacking her.

More yelling and laughter can be heard after, and Daryl’s surprise ambush gives him and Lori enough time to run off, no doubt teaming up themselves to go after somebody else.  

From their spot on the porch, coffees in hand and blanket over their frames, both Hershel and Annette smile as they observe.

“I told you everything would work out,” he reminds her, his smile soft as he regards his wife.

Annette smiles back—it’s easy, so easy to see just where Beth gets her big, bright grin from—before nodding slowly.

“You did,” she sighs in content, empty hand grasping for Hershel’s own. “Just one more blessing this Christmas, I suppose.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the delay, finals have been more hectic than anticipated!


	5. Untitled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You ever gonna tell me your name?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This drabble is AU.

“You ever gonna tell me your name?”

The man, from his spot behind the counter as he serves beers to two patrons nearby, regards her with a gruff grumble and meets her gaze from beyond the fringe of his lengthy brunette locks.

“Nah,” he finally tells her.

Beth frowns, her nose scrunching inquisitively as she looks him over. “I’ve been singin’ here for two weeks now,” she points out, as though he should understand what that’s meant to mean to him.

His brow furrows as he makes his way over towards her. Leaning with his forearms on the bar top, he shrugs. “So?”

“So,” the blonde huffs out in exasperation, “you know my name by now. I want to know yours. We’re workin’ together, so why not?”

“You don’t care,” he promises her easily. “You’re just another one of ‘em.”

He can tell she’s confused by his words, so he elaborates. “You ain’t gonna be here for long, girl, so why’s it matter?”

She watches him thoughtfully for a long moment before shrugging in defeat. Playing absentmindedly with the straw in her drink, she eventually sighs.

“I like it here,” she replies in afterthought.

It carries about as much weight with him as her first reasoning had.

* * *

 

“Hmm, maybe Harold?”

He snorts, eyes rolling as he watches Beth. He’s cleaning off the bar, a wet rag in his hand as he listens to her speaking.

“Do I look like a Harold to you?” He asks her in return, eyeing her over as she laughs.

“Guess not,” Beth shrugs finally. “But it’s been a whole month now, grumpy. I’m gettin’ impatient here.”

“Stop,” he tells her, but there’s no real malice to his tone. “You know I hate that.”

“That ain’t true,” she points out, “’cause you’re always makin’ it perfectly clear to me that I don’t know anythin’ about you at all. So why would I know that?”

The brunette leaves her with a small roll of his eyes, one he doubts she even sees, before taking off towards the backroom to finish unpacking the new stock for the bar.

* * *

 

He watches her closely for the next three weeks, especially so while she’s performing. Beth is magic up there, with her guitar in hand. She has a great voice, and he really likes it, but he knows that he’d never be able to admit as much out loud to her.

He has to give her credit, though, honestly.

Nearly two months down and she’s still here; still singing in this dump of a town, on the stage inside this dump of a bar. Part of him wants her to leave—he knows there are far better places than this one out there for her to showcases her talents at.

But the other part?

The other part thinks he was wrong after all.

Maybe she isn’t just like all of the others who’ve been through here before.

* * *

 

One more week until Christmas—three months now since Beth had started here—and the place is packed.

She’d had a full house for her set, her adrenaline running on high the entire night. They’d drunkenly applauded and shouted, some catcalled even; they did it all. And she hadn’t minded one bit, that smile of hers refusing to leave her face the entire time.

They end up needing help to man the bar afterwards. Lori, one of the woman that works there, had to call off because her baby got sick.

Their boss, a nice but strict man named Dale, frantically asks Beth if she has any experience pouring drinks. She does (she doesn’t tell him about that particular job only lasting a week and a half) and the next thing she knows she’s right by the brunettes side, filling up shot after shot for a rowdy bunch of drunks.

It’s someone nearby, not one of their usual’s—Beth thinks his name might be Shane—who drunkenly thrusts mistletoe out over their heads as they stand together pouring beer.

Beth wants to avoid it, she can tell just how terribly uncomfortable her counterpart is as he regards the plant as it hangs above them, but not long after the entire bar begins chanting ‘kiss her, kiss her, kiss her’. And so she finds herself grabbing him and pulling him close, pressing her lips to his chapped own, mostly just to shut everyone else up and get it over with; to stop his clear humiliation.

Later, once the majority of the crowd has dissipated and Beth can’t take any more of his avoidance, she groans in irritation.

“It’s fine, it was just a kiss, alright? Quit actin’ like I’m gonna try and jump your bones every time I walk by!”

“It ain’t that,” the brunette mumbles out quickly, shaking his head. Beth swears she spots both of his cheeks go red, but he does his best to cover it up with his hair.

Her tone softer this time, she shrugs. “What is it then?”

For a second there she almost thinks he might actually answer her. His lips open and part, like he’s about to say something relevant, but then he just shuts down and frowns instead.

“It ain’t nothin’.”

He’s gone before she has the chance to respond.

* * *

 

It’s past closing time and they’re the only two left at the bar and somehow Beth has managed to convince him to dance with her.

Two weeks past Christmas, Dale had made him stay late to finally, _finally_ take down all of the decorations. Beth had been quick to lend her services as well, once she’d heard Dale asking.

He’d denied her up and down for as long as he could about that dance of hers she’d wanted, but there’s really no rejecting those two big blue orbs once they’re trained on you and begging for something. She’d popped some money in the jukebox not long after, before grabbing his hand and leading him out onto the empty floor.

Daryl holds her, fingertips shaking slightly as he grips her waist. She doesn’t mention it to him though, not at all minding.

The silence, the serenity of the moment is only broken by the brunette as he whispers softly in her ear; so softly, she nearly misses it. “It’s Daryl—Daryl Dixon.”

Beth sighs gently, draping her arms tighter around his shoulders.

“I know.”

“You know?” He sounds confused but not at all mad, and that’s something Beth regards thankfully.

“I know,” she repeats. “Dale told me your name before my first shift at this place; told me everyone’s.”

Her admittance causes Daryl to falter slightly, their movement coming to a halt soon after. He pulls back, but only far enough so that he can look her in the eyes. “Why’d you keep askin’, then?”

His eyes are filled with curiosity but also a warmth she hasn’t ever seen in them before. It makes her stomach feel hot.

Beth shrugs, fitting him with one of her signature smiles before resting her head back against his chest. The song she’d picked from the jukebox has long since stopped playing, but the twosome continues to dance together.

“Thought you were cute. Just wanted you to want to tell me for yourself, I guess.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Daryl echoes, his gruff voice much tender than usual as he tastes those words on his own tongue. They seem to feel right because he repeats them once after, this time much softer and more so to himself than for Beth’s own ears.

“I guess.”

It’s not much, but it’s something.

And he’s not running away from her, which is great. Or from their dance with no sound. Even his fingers have stopped their trembling, now settled with confidence as they grip the flesh of her middle.   

_Daryl Dixon._

Beth decides right away that she likes the ring of it.


	6. Getting By

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's not here, and Rick is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maggie and Rick end up finding each other after the prison falls.

Maggie can remember Glenn more clearly than she can remember herself on most days. His smile; that little quiver of his upper lip right before he’d be about to grin, usually at her. The way his hair would feel between her fingertips as she’d caress it late at night, his own arms wrapped tight around her bare body in between the sheets.

With every time she’s forced to pull her knife out, raised and ready, Maggie pictures Glenn in that very same position. She’s seen him stand that way more times than she can count. But he wouldn’t take nearly as long to kill walkers as she does these days. Sometimes she wonders if he’d be ashamed to see her now, to see the shell of a person she’s become.

He’s there every time she closes her eyes, dancing beneath both upper lids; so beautiful, so painful his memory is to her.

Part of her wants to forget him. But the rest of her knows she’d sooner die than allow for his face to leave her memory.

It has to have been at least one whole year by now.

One year without her family—Beth and Glenn.

One year without Rick’s family—Judith and Carl.

She doesn’t like thinking about Hershel, or remembering him even. She does her best to ignore the pang of guilt in her stomach whenever Rick mentions him offhand and she pretends to not have heard him.

And after Maggie had returned to the bus during the fall of the prison, only to find Beth gone, it’d crushed her more. Everything inside of her had been twisted up and in the worst way possible.

To have Glenn taken from her as well? Whatever semblance of a heart she’d had left by that point had been crushed by that final blow.

Wherever Beth may be now, Maggie will probably never know. And that hurts, god it hurts so badly, but if there’s one thing she’s certain of, it’s of the blondes hope and faith. Much like her father, she can’t envision Beth ever giving up that faith. And if she’s already gone, Maggie’s at peace with telling herself that Beth’s in heaven right now, in her daddy’s arms; her faith having never wavered.  

But the sting of Glenn long gone himself? It’s a damn near indescribable pain, one that cuts a searing hole through her soul whenever she thinks about it.    

Maggie knows that Beth, wherever she may be, has God to keep her safe. But what about Glenn? His faith is nowhere near comparable to that of Beth’s. Glenn needs her…and she needs him, too. They’ve been each other’s hope ever since the very moment they laid eyes on one another back on the Greene family farm.

But he’s not here.

Hasn’t been for a year.

He’s not here, and Rick is.

Maggie knows she’s lucky to have him, knows that finding him after the prison had fallen was the best thing that could have happened to her. But he isn’t Glenn—he isn’t her husband.

She feels a strong shame, deep within the pit of her belly every single night she’s curled up with Rick beneath the blankets because she knows it should be Glenn there with her instead.

And when—on late nights while the snow is falling swiftly and wind can chill to the bone—Maggie kisses him, she knows that should be Glenn, too. Her lips meet his with a sense of desperation and depravity, and Rick kisses back just as hard—just as hurt. Afterwards they’ll lay there, spent and sad, but nothing else changes. The world continues moving just like it had been beforehand, the snow continues falling.

It’s not love, but it’s important. Rick misses his own family just as much as she misses hers. Neither of them wants this, but they’re lonely. They need each other for now; for as long as it takes to survive.

Maggie pretends it’s Glenn sometimes, when she’s with him. But that usually hurts more than simply allowing herself to recognize that it’s Rick.

It’s unconventional and probably more wrong than she’s willing to admit to herself, but a year without family is a long time; a year without life is a long time.

This isn’t really living, though.

It isn’t anything more than a way to get by.


	7. Sneak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michonne sneaks Carl a treat.

“Carl.”

He almost misses the voice at first, nearly shaking it off as nothing more than his own imagination. But when he hears it once more soon after, it’s a little bit louder—more like a whisper-yell—and it finally pulls his head from his comics.

His nose scrunching slightly, Carl sets aside his comic and glances towards his cell door. It’s late and he knows he should probably be sleeping by now, but he’d been getting pretty into this particular comic as of late and just couldn’t bear to put it down. This only peaks his curiosity further, as his mind tries to process just who exactly could be coming for him in the middle of the night, when they should probably be sleeping as well.

Grabbing his shoes, he slips them on before quietly making his way out of his cell.

He’s startled at first, seeing nobody nearby. But after a moment or two of silence, he can hear a soft shuffling of feet to his right.

Carl’s nearly ready to reach for his knife, still hooked to his belt loop, when Michonne’s grinning face appears into view.

Releasing a soft sigh, he shakes his head. “Thought you were a walker,” he mumbles.

Michonne snorts lightly, shaking her head as she reaches for the boy. Grabbing his arm, she motions for him to follower her.

“Walkers can talk now?” She teases, once they’re out of earshot from the main cellblock.

Carl laughs himself, shrugging. “Nothing would surprise me anymore,” he offers. She seems to think on it for a moment before shrugging herself.

“Listen kid,” she starts out, pulling something from her pocket that he can’t quite see. “I found this out on my run with Daryl earlier. We both thought it’d be a good idea to bring it back for you. Thought I’d wait till later to show you so the others wouldn’t see.”

He watches intently, eyes inquisitive as they glance towards her hands. She’s still shuffling around, with a look of determination on her face, before finally ‘aha’-ing in triumph and gently pulling from her pocket a half crushed candy bar.

Smiling sheepishly, she extends it towards Carl. “Sorry about that, it got a little beat up on the trip over.”

He regards her with wide eyes, his smile growing for a moment or two in excitement before the light dissipates and instead leaves him standing there sulking. Michonne watches him curiously, noting his sagging shoulders.

“I can’t take it,” he tells her.

She frowns. “Why not?”

“Just can’t,” he supplies, running his hand through his hair absentmindedly. “Wouldn’t be fair to everyone else here getting nothing from it.”

Michonne sighs deeply, watching him intently for a moment or so before grasping his shoulder tightly with the hand not holding the bar. “I’m sure they’ve all snuck their own treats in every now and then,” she promises, hoping to lift his spirits. “You’ve been working hard, Carl. I think you deserve this.”

“I don’t know,” he regards, voice still a bit skeptical. His stance shifts beneath her fingers though, and she smiles, already knowing she’s got him hooked.   

“Come on,” she pushes his shoulder lightly, teasingly. “Just pretend that it’s Christmas,” she offers with a shrug, her smile still in place. “It’s just a present I wanted you to have.”

Carl chuckles, finally accepting the offered candy bar. “I guess I could pretend,” he tells her after. “But only if you promise to share with me.”

Michonne nods, patting the boy on the shoulder affectionately. “I was hoping you’d say that.”


	8. Noise Complaint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apartment 12 is being too loud, and Sheriff Grimes is there to let them know it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is AU. The plot was specifically requested by carpediem-365! I hope you enjoy it!

Rick absolutely hates noise complaints.

They’re a bit boring, to be honest. And usually whenever they’re called in and he’s forced to check them out, the problem isn’t nearly as dire as the people who called had made it out to be.

That’s probably why he finds barely any noise at all coming from inside of Apartment 12 as he rests just outside of the door.

Rick thinks vaguely for a moment or so about leaving; just walking away and telling his boss that he’d taken care of it. But god forbid the neighbors call back later. The last thing he needs would be reprimanding from his superior over ignoring a stupid noise complaint.

With a defeated sigh, he finds himself knocking.

He absentmindedly plays with the bottom button of his shirt as he waits. He can hear the light guitar tha had been playing beforehand as it stops. Soon after a soft shuffling can be heard, and finally a young blonde opens the door.

Rick watches her as she regards him thoughtfully, her big blue eyes scrunching in confusion as she looks him over and then finally widening in excitement. He can tell just by looking at her that she’s been drinking.

“Good evening ma’am,” he greets her politely, “ladies,” he includes after, tipping his hat towards the three separate females he can see inside behind her, all seated on the couch. “I’m Sheriff Rick Grimes and I’m here tonight regardin’ a noise complaint that we had called in earlier. Would you mind if I come in?”

He eyes the woman warily, hoping they’re all of legal age. It seems as though he’s interrupted a simple ladies night in, and the last thing he feels like doing is writing them up for underage drinking.

It’s been a long, uneventful day, and truthfully he’s really only eager to get home and crawl into bed. He’d been hearing all day that it’s supposed to snow pretty heavily tonight and he’d like to be long home before it comes.

“Sure,” the blonde giggles, eyes still wide as she moves over to let him inside. Rick does as offered, accepting her invitation as he descends through the threshold. She shuts the door soundly behind him. “I’m Beth Greene,” she adds in afterthought.

Rick nods. “You ladies havin’ a few to drink tonight?” He asks.

Beth grins coyly, her cheeks tinged pink no doubt due to the alcohol coursing through her system. “Celebratin’ my 21st,” she tells him. Glancing around the room briefly, it becomes pretty apparent that she’s telling the truth. Intermixed with all of the Christmas decorations she has out, he takes notice of a bundle of balloons off in the corner—ones that had been hidden from his view before entering—that declare her new age for all to see.

Rick sighs internally, thankful to be seeing this.

He’s just about to remind her of the noise complaint, probably just give her a brief warning and leave, when one of her hands snakes out to grab for his arm.

Beth wraps her fingertips around his bicep, squeezing softly before pulling back. She giggles as she watches him and Rick is left to simply stand there, dumbfounded and mouth agape, with all of his previous words long forgotten.

“Come on sheriff,” the blonde speaks animatedly, her voice taking on a tone he can only describe as seductive. He blinks rapidly, confusion lacing his features as he watches her, not at all aware of just what ‘coming on’ he’s meant to be doing. In all his years of being on the force, he can’t quite recall something like this ever happening to him.

“Pardon me, ma’am?” He asks.

The blonde only bites her lip in response, her finger reaching out to tug at one of his belt loops before he has the chance to jump back. “I don’t have a lot of ones on me,” she slurs out before shrugging, “but I have enough. Are you gonna take this off _sheriff_ , or what?”

His face heats as he suddenly realizes just exactly what she’s implying. From the corner of his eye he can see all three of her friends on the couch, laughing uncontrollably. They have their hands over their mouths in attempts to quiet their laugh fest.

“I think you’re mistaken,” he tries telling her.

Beth shakes her head, eyes roaming his frame. Rick regards her uncomfortably, both embarrassed by her implications and also the fact that it’s suddenly become very apparent to him just how attractive this young woman actually is.

“You’re the hottest stripper I’ve ever seen,” she praises, giggling. Her blue eyes eventually meet his once more, after they’ve finished trailing his body, and she winks. Rick swallows thickly.

“I’m not a stripper, Miss. Greene,” he finally chokes out, gathering his wits. This only causes her friends laughter to increase.

Beth concerns him with skepticism for a moment, not certain of whether or not to believe him. But once she takes note of her friends, nearly dying from laughter on the couch, it seems to piece itself together.

“Tara?” She mumbles hopefully.

One of the brunettes on the couch snorts, shaking her head quickly. “Hun, we never got you a stripper. Could have if we’d of known how badly you wanted one, though…”

The next time Beth’s gaze meets his, the only thing he can spot swimming there is pure mortification.

“Sheriff, I…” She wants to backtrack, tries to take it all back, but her embarrassment seems to hinder her apology. Her movements are slow, uncoordinated, as she reaches a hand out to run it through her blonde locks. He figures the alcohol isn’t doing her mind any favors right now either, making it harder for her to find the words she’s looking for.

Rick gets it though, he understands, and he nods her way as though it’s no big deal. “Please, just forget about it. I’m just here to let you know your neighbor was wantin’ you to quiet down. I’ll leave you with a warnin’ this time, but please be careful to lower your volume next time. G’night, ma’am.” And then he dumbly adds in afterthought, “and happy birthday.”

He’s out of the door before Beth has the time to respond, closing it quickly on his way out. Rick pauses after, taking a moment to gather himself, before he takes off. It’d been an interesting night, that’s for certain.

As embarrassing as that’d been—more so for her than anyone else, he realizes—Rick finds himself more so ashamed by just how pleased he’d really been to hear such a beautiful woman praising his looks.

Perhaps it was simply because he’s been without intimacy for a while now. Or maybe had something to do with the fact that it’s always flattering to be positively critiqued. Or just because she had truthfully been beautiful.

Either way, as he makes his way outside and into the frigid night air of December, he can’t help in shamelessly hoping her neighbors call in another noise complaint sometime soon.


End file.
